5 Times T'Challa Didn't Listen to Shuri
by RebelzHeart
Summary: And 1 time he did.
1. Chapter 1

When T'Challa had his nose still stuck in the books. learning all about how to rule a country, Shuri was dismantling her hoverbike with a frightening lack of precision.

It wasn't that their father hadn't told her to read, nor that she didn't have access to their admittedly small library, but rather even as a child, Shuri was stubbornly unrepentant about doing what she wanted and her parents had decided that encouraging her would be better than letting her grow up miserable and unable to do what she truly wanted.

"I think that this," she pokes at a little white light attached to the sides, "Can be made bulkier. It will definitely take up more space, but if we just... T'Challa, give me your hoverbike?"

"Hm," T'Challa says vaguely, eyes still on the page.

Shuri stands up to her full height of barely a meter and sticks her chubby hands on her hips. "Is that a yes?" She asks, waving her wrench around.

T'Challa makes another vague, noncommital noise, and Shuri sighs. She bends down next to him and snaps a few fingers in his face, " _T'Challa_ ," she reprimands him, "Yes or no?"

"Whatever you want, Shuri," T'Challa answered nebulously.

"You are impossible!" Shuri groaned, throwing her hands up in the air, "But then again..." She tapped two fingers against her chin, a wicked smile overtaking her face. "You said whatever I wanted?"

T'Challa doesn't reply this time, too caught up in his oh-so-riveting book.

 _Okay_ , Shuri clapped her hands together, _I can work with this._

* * *

T'Challa's hoverbike was missing.

And that would be okay, really, except.

T'Challa doesn't _lose things._

It just doesn't happen. It has never happened before, and he's not planning on letting it begin to happen _now_ , so he needs to find his hoverbike, preferably before the meeting between the tribe leaders this afternoon.

T'Challa is _responsible_ and he's a _prince_ and if he loses his hoverbike and goes to the council, he's sure that they'll all think that he will be a bad king and his dad will be disappointed, which isn't fair, because T'Challa could have _sworn_ his hoverbike was in the third room down the second floor, except he had checked it over and over and...

"What are we looking for?" Shuri popped up next to T'Challa, a spot of grease on her cheek and a wild smile on her face.

"Nothing, Shuri," T'Challa answered pertinently, "Go away."

Shuri scrunched up her nose and scowled at him, "You're not the boss of me," she huffed, "Besides, I made you a nice present and everything, be nice!"

T'Challa hesitated, eyes flickering to Shuri for a moment before repeating quietly, "...a present?"

"Yes, a present," Shuri punched T'Challa in the arm and no that totally did not hurt because T'Challa was bigger than Shuri and he had magical panther powers from Bast, so there. "Do you want to see it?"

Despite himself, T'Challa was curious. And. Well. He _did_ rather like presents...

"Yes," He admitted.

"In that case," Shuri smiled sweetly at him, and T'Challa tried to find a way to discreetly rub his arm. It wasn't fair. Shuri was a girl and _everyone_ knew that girls were super strong, "Better apologize for telling me to go away."

T'Challa chewed on his lower lip for a moment, and then nodded, "It wasn't nice of me to say that to you," he admitted, "I'm sorry for telling you to go away when you were just trying to help me. It was rude and unnecessary."

"Oh, lighten up," Shuri groaned, "You sound like dad, all polite and stiff."

T'Challa didn't think that sounding like dad seemed like such a bad thing, but decided to stay silent, "Do I get my present now?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Shuri's face lit up with a bright smile, "I upgraded your hoverbike!"

T'Challa froze.

"You did _what?_ " He exclaimed, horrified.

"Yeah, you said that I was allowed to do whatever I wanted when I asked if I could use your hoverbike last week..."

...yes, he vaguely recalled that, but he didn't think...

"So I thought, what if I made it _faster_..."

...oh Bast, she destroyed it, it was destroyed, horrible, terrible...

"...but then I was like, what if it had comfier seats, right? So obviously I redesigned the frame..."

...it was a disaster, and he had nobody to blame but himself...

"...and voila!" Shuri pulled the sheet off of his new and improved hoverbike.

T'Challa gaped.

"My old one was perfectly functional," he said weakly.

"Perfectly functional," Shuri tapped T'Challa's nose, "does _not_ mean that it can't be improved upon, T'Challa."

"My old one was _purple_ ," he mourned, "This one is _white_."

Shuri folder her arms across her chest and stuck out her tongue, "White is an awesome colour!" She huffed, "Also, I made your hoverbike the most awesome bike in the world, how dare you question my perfection."

"White isn't even a _colour_ ," T'Challa despaired.

"Paint it over, then!" Shuri groaned, "Come on, T'Challa, try it out! You'll love it!"

He did love it.

(But T'Challa vowed to never agree to do something with Shuri without listening first because everyone knew that purple was way cooler than white except _apparently Shuri!_ And his hoverbike was _different_ now. It was unnecessarily fast and comfier and... okay, fine, so it was cool, but _still_. It was _white_.)

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't even know what happened in this chapter, but I'm in love with Black Panther so. *shrugs*


	2. Nakia

T'Challa is in love with Nakia.

Shuri knows it, her mom and dad know, Okoye knows, everyone knows except Nakia, who apparently, for all that she's an amazing, badass spy, can't figure out that T'Challa has a crush on her.

Honestly, Shuri wonders how any of these dimwits had ever existed without her there to help them.

"You should ask her out," she tells T'Challa offhandedly, tapping two fingers against the table, "I think that she might like you back."

T'Challa's eyes dart back and forth, as though he expects to find Nakia waiting in the shadows for him to say something dumb and embarrassing, "No," he hisses between clenched teeth, turning bright red, "No, no I don't."

"It's okay, big bro," Shuri leans back and laces her fingers together behind her head, a shark's smile upon her lips, "I understand. She's a kickass, intelligent, badass spy who could probably take down entire empires with her hands tied behind her back, and you're into girls that could beat you six ways to Sunday."

"No," T'Challa buries his face in his hands, "No, no I'm not. I'm not into girls. I'm not into that."

Shuri blinks, "You're gay?" She gasps.

"What? No! I'm not! I just don't like Nakia, is all!"

"Oh," Shuri deflates, "Yeah, you are. I've seen the way you look at her, like how dad looks at mom..."

"No, that's not..." T'Challa stares at his fingers, and then ducks his head down, ears bright red, taking a moment before he whispers, "Is it that obvious?"

Shuri examines her nails, pretending to take a moment to think about it, "Kind of, yeah," she agrees, shrugging, "Like I said, you should ask her out."

"No, no way!" T'Challa shook his head, waving his hands in front of his face, "I've got to become king, I have to study, I need to..."

"Oh, hush," Shuri rolled her eyes, "Dad's got mom, doesn't he? Does that stand in the way of him being king?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Then there are no buts," Shuri huffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "Honestly, T'Challa, get yourself some guts and just confess already."

T'Challa doesn't have any ticks, can't afford to have them because he's the king, but if he did have any ticks, Shuri knows for a fact that he'd be going through them with the steadiness of a car from the outside world. (Honestly, it's a wonder that those clunks of metal even move, let along go at two hundred miles per hour. She is so grateful for Vibranium, otherwise, she wonders what kind of stone age everyone would still be living in.)

"I'm not that obvious," he finally says, jaw tight and chin lifted. It's his 'crown prince pose', the one that he assumes when he doesn't know what he's doing. For some reason, it makes him seem competent to others. Shuri sees it for what it is, though, her stupid brother posturing like a cornered snake, trying to seem far scarier than it actually is.

Shuri rubs her fingers against her temples. _Bast, give me strength. "_ She walked into the training room yesterday and you let Okoye knock you out."

"Okoye knocks me out all the time!" T'Challa protests, and then pauses, eyes widening, "Wait, no, that was not what I meant to say."

Shuri is impassive, "Without my technology on your side, _obviously,_ Okoye would beat you to a pulp. Honestly, T'Challa, just because you're going to be King doesn't mean that you have to be the strongest warrior of all time. There's a _reason_ that wars are handled by the armies, not the kings."

"Dad says that the best king never has to send his people to fight a war."

"Dad also says that rooibos tea tastes good with dates," Shuri crosses her arm over her chest, "Good advice, but I'm allergic to dates."

"Okay," A small smile tugs at the edge of T'Challa's lips, "I don't see what this has to do with Nakia."

"It doesn't," Shuri sighs, "We got off topic. As usual. Go ask Nakia on a date. And not the food, ask her on a _romantic_ date."

"That is not going to happen," T'Challa laughs.

Shuri looks mutinous, "You want to fight?" She demands, "I am trying to help you here!"

"I do not want to fight," T'Challa looks amused by the very idea, "And Nakia would never..." he turns red, "Nakia doesn't like me that way."

"Oh my..." Shuri clasps her hands in front of her face. Breathes. Shakes her head. "If you don't ask Nakia out, I will ask her out for you."

"Shuri, _no_."

Shuri jabbed her finger against T'Challa's chest, "Ask her out. Or I will for you."

A week later, Nakia comes to T'Challa with a hand on her hips and raises an eyebrow. "I'm told that you find my eyes beautiful?" She asks, clearly amused.

T'Challa freezes, "Well, um."

She laughs, and T'Challa is torn between strangling Shuri and thanking her.


End file.
